


Scribbled Broken Hearts

by xiujaemin



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-10-18 21:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10625682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiujaemin/pseuds/xiujaemin
Summary: There’s something—someone—missing, and Luhan likes to believe he’s always just there.





	

**Author's Note:**

> written for [this](http://ask.fm/mizuhime/answer/116936749179) prompt. this was supposed to be longer, but I ran out of ideas. Inspired by one of the stories from [this](http://davidlevithan.com/how-they-met-2/) book.

✉

Jongin almost jumps in his place when he sees a figure lying on top of Junmyeon’s bed, eyes closed shut and shoes still on his feet.

Jongin is aware that there would definitely come a time when Luhan would come to their house to find something to go back to when he misses Junmyeon; he just didn’t know that it would be today. It’s been six months already, so why today? He takes out his phone from his pocket and checks the date.

 _Right,_ he remembers, wincing because he almost forgot. _It’s today._ He should at least go out and buy something in a while.

It’s almost half a year since the day Junmyeon left, after all.

 

He flicks the light switch on and slightly feels bad for doing so as Luhan stirs awake, eyes blinking rapidly to adjust to the sudden brightness of the room. He looks thinner from the last time Jongin has seen him three—or was it four?—months ago standing just outside their office building as a man in his fifties (presumably his boss) was talking to him, while Jongin was passing by the building on the way back from school (Luhan hadn’t seen Jongin since he was preoccupied with the conversation—well, if you call staring blankly into space preoccupied). Well actually he _is_ thinner, from the way the sleeves of his sweater is hanging loosely from his frame.

 _He looks more dead than alive,_ Jongin observes. He realizes that maybe this is how much power a person can have over another, to the extent that they could have a tendency to forget to take care of themselves.

He briefly wonders whether he looked like that once, too.

“Oh, hi Jongin.” Luhan awkwardly begins, his voice still raspy from sleeping. He clears his throat and tries again. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask permission before entering. I know this place is yours now, just—I had the keys and—“

Jongin shakes his head. “It’s okay hyung, I’m not mad. And this place is yours too, since you still have the keys with you.” _And hyung still would’ve wanted you to have them_ , Jongin almost says but doesn’t, voice caught up in his throat. The image of Luhan as the hyung that he’s always seen as the sun—bright as day and always smiling is now changed to that of a fragile figurine’s made of glass that’s already begun to break, cracks expanding from the pressure of time and the tremor of words.

Luhan half-smiles. “I guess I’ve forgotten. It’s been quite some time already, after all.” He looks wistful, and Jongin wonders if he’s plunging back in the oceans of time that he has already swam over.

They fall into mutual silence, running out of words to say. But it isn’t as awkward as Jongin thought it would be; comfortable, even. They still need space to breathe and time to think, after all. There’s no need to rush things; to cram a single thought into one sentence in order to keep up with each pace. A single step at a time is enough for now.

“What’s his room like up there?” Luhan says after a while, voice cracking a bit. Clearly, he hasn’t been talking much about Junmyeon.

Jongin doesn’t know what to say, but he most especially knows Luhan doesn’t want his pity. So he settles for the first thing that comes up his mind. “Just how it is here—blue and white, with most of his clothes piled up in a laundry basket in the corner. He’s always too busy studying to get high grades for his Master’s Degree that he only gets to bring them to the laundry shop once a month.”

The beginnings of a smile start to tug at Luhan’s lips. “He has lots of clothes to spare, anyway.”

“Surprisingly though, he now knows how to tidy his room up. And he’s stopped ordering restaurant meals just so he could eat. I think he’s even learning how to cook now.” Jongin smiles back at the older man, but his words feel hollow at the end of his tongue. Maybe because even if he knows that they aren’t real and that he’s just rambling about based on what he’s imagined to have been the scenario back when Junmyeon told him that he’s planning to pursue his studies further just so Luhan wouldn’t feel sad. He himself wants to see it happening, even if he knows that it never could be.

They sit in silence for a moment more. “I miss him.” Luhan sighs.

“I do, too.” Jongin says, almost a silent whisper in the air.

“Of course,” Luhan nods. “you’re brothers. It’s natural.”

“No, not just that,” Jongin shakes his head, fringe swaying along his forehead. “I don’t just miss his presence—I mean there’s that, of course, since we’ve spent our whole lives together. But also I just miss… him.”

That’s all he says, but Luhan is on the verge of tears, lips shaking as he tries to hold them back. “It must be hard on you too. Maybe even harder, since you’ve known each other for so long. But…how come?” _How come I still can’t accept it? How come everywhere I look, he’s all I see?_

 __Jongin pats the older man’s back awkwardly, not knowing the right words to say. How could words even mend a broken heart? How could a single phrase instantly make everything better?

So he settles for the generic “It’s going to be alright. Maybe not now, but at least, someday.”, but it doesn’t come up sounding hollowed out and filled with too much false hope. Luhan feels a bit embarrassed that it’s Jongin who’s comforting him when it used to be the other way around, but he knows that the younger male’s words aren’t empty, for he himself has already been through this once, with someone Luhan has never had the chance to meet. Maybe it had been more difficult for him, because he didn’t get to say goodbye.

Luhan had at least seen Junmyeon’s eyes close one last time; he couldn’t imagine not being there with the latter in his final breath. He wouldn’t have known how letting go felt like—he would’ve kept holding on, and on, and on, until he himself fell.

“He left you something.”

He doesn’t know what to expect – a letter left only for him, with “Remember when’s” and “We could have’s”? A note filled with things left unsaid and goodbyes that are better left suspended in the air? Or maybe a scrapbook filled with photos printed in glossy paper with cheesy notes at the side, because Junmyeon is just that embarrassing?

But what he receives instead is a Polaroid of a shot he remembers quite well, having had given this copy himself, with the original one tucked in his wallet. There isn’t anything written or drawn at the back, but Luhan could already hear Junmyeon telling him to keep it, to treasure this copy in his stead.

Jongin quietly stands up, knowing that he should leave because Luhan needs to be alone for a moment. He remembers the time when the roles were reversed, when it was him who was crying for someone he so much loved but still lost. Junmyeon and Luhan had both been there for him to pull him back to the shore when he feels like sinking back again. But it was still difficult when he still felt so alone despite the number of people that had been by his side, ready to comfort him.

Right after the door closes with a soft _click_ , Luhan hugs the faded Polaroid to his chest and lets himself cry for the first time in six months. _Maybe in another life, things wouldn’t be hard as they currently are. Maybe in the next life, we’ll be together the way we’ve always wanted to be._

 __It was quite a long time to wait. But maybe they really _will_ see each other again.

✉

Luhan stands in front of Junmyeon’s grave on the day of his death anniversary, hands traveling across the top of the marble slab erected to mark his tomb. He smiles.

Maybe they didn’t need to be happy.

Maybe they just needed to be alright.  



End file.
